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The Henry Ford Museum (March 26, 2010)


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April 8, 2010 Posted by | Photo | | Leave a comment

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Jack & Jill (Part Fourteen)

Jack & Jill (A Love Story)

A Jack Collier Story

By Brett N. Lashuay



Read last week’s entry here.

 Part Fourteen: Cole King’s Confession


            I’ve been told by my lawyer that I need to write out this confession for my plea bargain. I’m supposed to write down everything that happened, so that they can have it on record or something. I don’t know why I can’t just tell the shyster or something, but I’ll manage. I can use a computer, I can type. My lawyer keeps telling me that it’s got to me in my own words or something. Whatever.


            I’ll start with the little bitch, because that’s what I’m supposed to be pleading to anyway. I understand that now that she’s back home she’s been claiming I kidnapped her and that I raped her and I stole her away from home. They also say I shot that detective, tried to kill him. That’s bullshit right there.


            I’ve been fucking her whenever I’ve been in town since her 13th birthday, and she started it by the way. At that party her dad threw for her, she came and saw me in the pool house late at night, after everyone had gone to bed. She looked so hot in her little red swimsuit, and she started striping it off while I watched. She blew me right there in my chair, did me in the hot tub, and she weren’t no virgin when I started with her let me tell you that. Little bitch was a slut long before I got there.


            I’ve still got all the txt’s that she sent me still on my phone, where she begs me to come get her and save her. She said it was horrible being there, she said she was being choked to death or some shit. I’ve got the records of all those IM conversations when she came asking me to come get her and take her back with me to my place. A year and a half that went on, with her telling me how she wanted me inside her, and how great it would be if we could be together, and all the things we’d do when she was with me.


            So yeah, I went up there and got her. She had a bag ready, so I was only there a couple of minutes. We didn’t want to attract a lot of attention, so we drove back down there instead of taking a flight. It wasn’t because I was trying to keep her secret or anything, it was just that we were worried people might think something was wrong with us flying together. Flyings a bitch anymore anyway. Fucking people won’t even let you take a fuckin water bottle on a fuckin flight no more. Some damn towel heads pull some shit and a decent American can’t take a fucking bottle on a plane, ain’t that some shit?


            I didn’t tie her up, and I didn’t leave her in the back seat with a sack over her head. The only times I did that shit is when she wanted it, she was a kinky little cunt. I had her right next to me, in the front seat where we could play road games. She’d blow me as I drove along, I’d finger her while the miles clicked by, it was fun. She was so beautiful, sitting there in the front seat smiling at me. She sat naked all the way through West Virginia, just so I could look at her as we drove. She just kept a blanket she could throw over herself in case a cop drove by or something.


            It was after we got to Texas that thing started to go wrong. She started missing home or some shit, I don’t know. Then that detective guy started poking into what was going on in Georgia and I had to straighten that shit out too. If he’d stayed away from the damn wet-backs it wouldn’t have been a problem, or I suppose if the Fiddlers hadn’t been sot damn stupid.


            Yeah, we hired illegal wet backs, you try and get white people to pick the damn peppers for Piper to pickle and still make a fuckin’ profit. If I can point out to you, it ain’t just us either. Everybody fuckin does it. Still, that ain’t the issue here. What happened to them poor wet backs ain’t got nothing to do with me anyway. I was at home that whole time and what the Fiddlers did down there is on  them. I didn’t have nothing to do with any of it.


            We did have to go to the plantation, so I could keep an eye on things. If I didn’t, then the fiddlers would have killed all them little spicks. I guess that’s what led them down there in the first place, taht’s what I heard anyway. If that detective could talk, he’d tell you all about it, but it sounds like he might not ever do any talking ever. Shame, ‘cause he’d tell you all about when the little bitch told him about how she planned everything to make sure she wouldn’t get in any trouble.


            I don’t know how she did what she did with the cell phone and computer stuff. She told me when they she started to get on my nerves that if anything happened to her she made sure I’d go up forever on a kiddie rape rap. That’s stupid because she had to know I kept records, even if she managed to get things removed or whatever the hell she did.


            I’ll cop to taking her out of state to fuck her, but that’s what she wanted me to do. She asked me to do that for her. She said we’d be together. She came on to me, I want that fully understood. I couldn’t never have kidnapped her and I couldn’t never have raped her cause she wanted it. Bitch was randy as hell, had me stick it in every hole too. She loved it. She was a fucking whore. She only changed her tune when she knew that the fuckin’ detective was on to her. Then all the sudden I was a horrible person who kept her in a cage in the basement or some shit.


            I never did none of that shit. I just took her when she wanted to go and let her stay with me. I didn’t hurt her, I never hurt nobody. I never done nothing to nobody, not never.


            I got the wet backs into the country, but I never hit none of them and I didn’t kill anybody. I never shot anybody, the little bitch shot that detective fellah. Yeah, I followed them when that fucker broke into my place and shot at me. He snatched her away, I thought he was gonna kill her some thing. How the fuck do I know he’s hired by her daddy to come get her?


            So I came after them, and yeah, I shot Piper, but the fucker had it coming. He fucked up everything, and he shot at me first so fuck him. He ain’t dead, he’s just hurt in the leg a little. Fucker should be glad I didn’t shoot him in the balls like I was planning. Fuckin faggit got off light I can tell you that.


            I never did nothing wrong, not ever. I’ve always been an upstanding guy, done what was right. All these fuckers are just out to get me cause I fucked the little bitch, and I only did that cause she fuckin’ begged me to. That bitch was a little whore, and the fuckin detecive was a goddamn fucking psyco. I don’t desrve this shit. I never did nothing to no one.




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April 8, 2010 Posted by | Fiction, Jack | | Leave a comment